


Away from the Stars

by JustMyName



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Allen is in denial, Angst, Brooding Michael, Childhood Memories, Feelings Realization, I have no idea what this is..., Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Post Fight, Sexual Tension, can't sleep, confronting feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-15 08:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustMyName/pseuds/JustMyName
Summary: Quinn awakes from an intense dream distressed and unable to keep Allen from his thoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

_I know you better than you know yourself_  
_Which ain't saying much as far as I can tell_  
_You can sing your song_  
_You can sing it well_

_So quit putting me on_

_Sometimes you question life itself_  
_And sometimes you just go on with yourself_  
_You take it out on the mirror_  
_You don't see yourself no clearer, do ya?_  
_Do ya?_

 

  
A suffocating hand over his mouth woke him up, grabbing helplessly at his throat and gasping for air: **Almost** as if it was trying to insert itself into the cavern and down his throat. **Almost** as if it was trying to invade his insides. He panicked and desperately grabbed at the wrist of the man. It was definitely a man? There was earth at the back of his head. He could feel the dank, sludge of mud starting to wet his hair and he smelled the intense soil as it slowly took him into its embrace. His body writhed and struggled against the ground and his legs violently kicked. His eyes desperately searched for his weapon. He felt himself panic as he could feel the entity moor itself to his very being. It was as if it wanted to penetrate his soul. He knew the presence was otherworldly. This was no soldier. It felt wrong. But he was too weak to fight now. He was sinking fast, the mud was in his mouth, seeping into his nostrils and eyes. His fighting stopped and his body went limp. He was shocked to find an absolute calm come over him. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes to the darkness was the figure revealing itself. It was no soldier, no otherworldly thing. It was just a plain man. _Allen_ ; a blank stare on his face, pushing him into the blackness. Pushing him away from the stars.

  
************

It’s hot in the apartment. Stifling even. Quinn had no idea why. It was March in Ohio and a late snow had fallen a few days prior. It didn’t matter. The heat crept under his coverlet, and up his back causing sweat to pool there. Heart racing, he kicked the covers off violently and spryly swung his legs over the side of the bed. The clock read 1am. He achingly groaned at the myriad of lonely hours that were still ahead of the sunrise, and a new day. A new day of work. The one thing that distracted him from all the ‘other’.

As he glanced at his clock he noticed the shot of bourbon still left in his glass. He gladly took a swig of the dark liquor enjoying the sticky, sweet burn as it went down his throat. He grabbed at the crumpled pack of cigarettes lying next to his glass and opened it helplessly searching for one, knowing there was none there. Accepting it was a lost cause, he threw the pack into the trash can across the room. He rested his head in his hands, lazily watching his toes curl on the bland, beige carpet. There wasn’t anything extraordinary about the place. White walls, simple furniture. He hadn’t been concerned with it really for he was never at home long enough to notice. But tonight it bothered him. It seemed dead somehow.  
  
It had been a few days, but at every waking moment he was thinking about their fight and what he had said. He had never meant for it to go that far. His thumb traced the small scab forming above his eyebrow as he thought on his embarrassment. Fighting his colleague during a hostage situation really wasn’t the his definition of a successful day of work. He was mortified with himself for letting his childish anger get the best of him, but he could feel the energy between them building for weeks. The secrets Allen had been keeping had started to drive him crazy, and the fact that at every turn it seemed Allen was defying him on purpose. It was as if Allen was fighting something within himself, and the push-back at Quinn calmed his strife. Quinn just wished he would tell him whatever it was that was such a burden. The man was as mysterious as the cases they were studying, and if there was one thing Quinn liked more than flying it was having a concise, case closed answer to his questions. He was determined to figure the man out.

He sighed and stood, wearing nothing but a light blue pair of boxers, stretching his slightly bruised ribs and wincing at the pain in his side. He had taken his usual white t shirt off in the sleepy fit of rage that comes over a person sweltering in their uncomfortable bed. He was not one to be patient with not having a good night’s rest. His ability to perform his duties relied on it. He had to be on top of his game at all times, and couldn’t miss the small things that separated him from the officer’s who are only good at their jobs. He was great at his job. He knew that. It was the thing that he was most proud of in his life. It was how he got the Blue Book position in the first place. Harding knew he could rely on him to get the job done and keep the Air Force’s objectives on track. The only variable that neither one of them were expecting was Allen. He wasn’t some devoted lackey they could pacify with threats and propaganda. And honestly it was what he liked most about the man. He wasn’t afraid to ask hard questions, or even dangerous ones. He kept him honest. He admitted so that night as he handed Allen’s resignation letter back to him. He had noticed it was still unsigned and it had sparked a little hope in him that maybe he wasn’t entirely whole-hearted about leaving.

 _I think I’m better when your around._ The man’s face softened as he said the words to him, but he was still quite unreadable. Even though the exchange left him feeling relieved at getting that off his chest, Quinn was bothered by his lack of response as he gave him one last meaningful glance before leaving the office for DC.

Quinn cringed as he forcefully tugged the ice box open and grabbed his chilled Bellows Bourbon to refill his glass. An unexpected hammering at the door caused his hand to shake, and a loud blast in his head made his shoulders cower over the counter as his head swung towards the apartment’s entrance with a terrifying ferocity. The sienna liquid poured onto the counter bellowing out forcefully onto the floor and unpleasantly wetting his toes. The light from under the door created odd shadows and haze as it mixed with the dim, artificial light from his apartment. He blinked hard one more time to make sure the knock he heard really happened. Then cautiously went to the wooden door and looked through the peep hole fully expecting an upright officer awaiting him for official duties.

What Quinn was not expecting was the man that had been invading his thoughts day and night for the last week. He hastily opened the door and instantly felt his cheeks crimson as he regarded the distress on Allen’s face as the man took in his nakedness. Quinn’s hands dropped to his sides willfully submitting to the doctor’s gaze.

_I want you_  
_I just want you to be in a trance too_  
_Maybe find something you can dance to_  
_And hold on to something you know is true_  
_And slip into the ether_

_Don't want to tell anybody what to do_  
_And don't want to give advice to you_  
_The kind I know you won't listen to_  
_I know because I never listened either_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are brief depictions of abuse in this chapter for anyone who is sensitive. *****

_You was up to something_  
_I was up to nothing_  
_It was bound to happen that way_  
_Rain in the streetlights_  
_You in the midnight_  
_We could've had it any day_

  
Allen intently pushed his glasses up the thin bridge of his nose to allow a better view of the unexpected sight that was before him in Quinn’s bland apartment doorway. The gaze of his blue-green eyes focused under the rim of his glasses, wandering from Quinn’s hip bones jutting out above the waistband of his blue underwear, to the delicate fingers of his graceful hands. He followed the map of protruding veins gliding up his arms to where his shoulders expanded. Allen noticed his clavicle bone produced an attractive and sharp, mountainous rise in the line of his shoulders. His gaze continued to roam over the dark hair that covered the olive skin of his chest, up to the pulse of his neck and jaw, and rested intensely on those cavernous brown eyes. They were steadfast and exuding confidence even though its obvious as ever Allen was the last person Quinn expected at his door that night. The presumptuous position of his chest and shoulders made it clear he was accepting of his presence.

Allen opened his mouth to speak, but stumbled in the quiet that fell between them in their observation of one another.  
“I couldn’t sleep. I felt I had to see you.” Escaped his lips in one big breath, coming off needier and more anxious than he would have liked.

A beat passed between them and Quinn stepped back, and Allen tensed as his body slid by him, taking in the light scent of soap and stale cigarettes. He turned his head to avoid eye contact as he did so and disregarded the heat that radiated off him and down the side of his neck. Stepping into the dull light of his small apartment, he wasn’t sure if it was just him, but he immediately hated how hot it was inside. He stubbornly neglected his need to take his jacket off.

“Look.” He says squaring off with him and raising his hands as if in protest of something that hadn’t even happened yet, “I signed the paper. I just don’t think its a good idea. You and I. Continuing…whatever it is we are doing.” He paused and took a deep breath as if it was going to give him the courage to continue.

Allen couldn’t even believe he was here. His legs twitched in his bed at home and it didn’t matter how many times he flexed and relaxed them, tossed and turned, holding _her_ , turning away from _her_ , listening to _her_ breathe next to him. He couldn’t be in that bed one moment longer. He frantically left the burning sheets behind, grabbed his clothes from the night before and quietly left the house. It wasn’t until he was looking at the dull glow of the damp parking lot under the street lamps of Quinn’s apartment that he realized where he was heading.

“What do you mean?” Quinn said lowly as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the white t-shirt on the floor, quickly pulling it over his head. Just as Allen kept his jacket on, it was obvious the action was meant as a way to close himself off from him, and Allen couldn’t help but feel disappointed somehow. He felt the mood change instantly. He watched as Quinn’s dark eyes looked anywhere but directly at him. The precise bow of his lips stretched itself tightly over his white teeth as if a tiger was yawning, keeping whatever he wanted to say deep in his throat.  
A slight groan rose from him.

“You want a drink?” He said refusing to release his gaze from the floor, and left for the kitchen before he had time to reply.

Allen was thankful Quinn turned away from him, but was distressed even more when the tension didn’t cease. It was thick between them, bouncing off the walls of the tiny studio apartment.

As Quinn headed to the kitchen he took in the place. It was plain and small, but neat. Very few personal items except one old war picture Allen noticed on the desk near the door. It was of Quinn and a man in partly undone uniforms. They look tired and dirty, but smiling. Their shoulders are touching intimately, a cigarette lazily hanging from Quinn’s mouth as they look down at what appears to be an open bottle of wine among a dealt set of cards.

Next to it was a picture of a woman and a baby standing near a large tree in full bloom. It must be his mother. It looks to be a sunny, Summer day, and she’s leaning down holding one hand out as the baby is standing attempting to walk. Her eyes are as dark as Quinn’s, raven curly hair pulled back into a handkerchief. She’s wearing a thin, plain cotton dress, and the boy had a patch on one knee. They are barefoot. It’s obvious they’re most likely impoverished, but there is a happiness between them that Allen envies. There is a tenderness in the woman’s eyes and the gesture towards her baby that never existed between him and his own mother, no matter how desperate he was for it to be.

“She’s dead now.” Quinn said coming up behind him and clearing his throat. He held the glass of liquor in front of Allen’s chest as he looked at the photograph.  
Allen looked down at the glass of dark liquor and accepted his offer, a breath escaping his lips as their fingers brushed, and he swore Quinn let it linger for a moment longer than was acceptable.

Allen kept his gaze on the photograph. “She’s beautiful.”

“Hungarian.” He stated simply. “Her and my father had an arranged marriage. It let her escape her tiny Romani village and come to America. They originally settled in Toledo, and eventually Michigan. She always told me it was her greatest accomplishment, being able to raise me here. But there was always a sadness about her that I could feel even as a child, like she longed for home.”

He paused as if to gather courage. “My father beat her every day,” he said quickly, voice cracking. Allen could hear him swallow loudly.

Allen watched Quinn, but his uncompromising gaze never left his mother.

“And one day when I was eight I came home from school, and she just didn’t get up. I love this picture. It’s the only one I have of her. Her friend from the neighborhood took it and sent it to me before I left for the war.”

Allen stood there a moment feeling stupid, not knowing what to say.

“What happened to him?” His cheek twitched anxiously as he asked the question.

Quinn straightened his shoulders and turned his back on the photograph of his mother and Allen.

“Drunk bastard got himself killed in a fight. Died right in the street where he belonged.”

He marched back over to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of bourbon filling his glass much higher than the respectable two fingers.

Bitterly, he asked, “Doc, are you here for any particular reason other than to tell me you’re quitting Blue Book at one in the morning?”

Allen was taken aback by the aggressive and hurt expression on his face.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could think to say. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I would just get it over with before you found out from Harding or someone else.”

Quinn’s body slackened slightly at his confession, but the intensity in his eyes did not.

He swallowed hard again, “I meant what I said.”

“I know. I know you did.” Allen said pointedly, walking towards him slowly.

“Which is why,” he takes a deep breath, “I think it’s better that I quit before it gets more complicated. I have my family, and you have your work. I think it would be better if it just went back the way it was before Project Blue Book.” Allen stopped in his tracks, an embarrassing red heat creeping up his neck. He immediately regretted his words, but kept his gaze steadfast on Quinn’s trying to discern any reaction in his black eyes.

“I think you’ll regret it.” Was the only response he offered before trying to push past him toward the bathroom, presumably to shut the door in his face.

Allen brought his hand out to Quinn’s shoulder to gently keep him from leaving. He couldn’t leave now. It couldn’t end like this.

Quinn huffed deeply and burst around, swatting his hand away as he did so. His hawkish approach towards Allen caused him to blindly back up and roughly hit the wall near the front door with a thud. His face was inches from his now, and he could see the whites of his eyes were slightly blood shot and his nostrils flared in anger. He watched as his perfect mouth lifted tightly against his teeth again almost like he was going to let out a primal growl. For a split second he looked at the doorknob and thought how easy it would be to duck from under him and run. But that would make him more of a coward than he already felt.

The heat radiated from his body causing Allen to sweat under his jacket. He felt the same passionate stir that had engulfed his entire body the last time they were physical with each other. Allen knew why Quinn was so angry. He knew he was the liar. He knew that he felt whatever was happening between them too.

Allen knew quitting made him one more wrongdoer turning their back on him, and making him believe he was the sinful one. That it was his fault. This wasn’t just about Allen and his idiotic self denial. If he abandoned him now the defeated man might not ever get back up. Allen would be just another person he loved leaving him alone and at fault. It dawned on him in that second who the man in the picture was. At the surface it’s just a picture of two war buddies celebrating a quiet moment in between the horror, but the intimacy between them, whether acted on or not, was fully clear to him now. Another abandonment, another snuffed out love.

Allen’s heart beat rapidly as he quietly brought his hand up to Quinn’s jaw. The man’s face snapped back as if his fingertips burned him. His chocolate irises set aflame to amber as he searched deeply for the meaning behind Allen’s sudden tender action. He watched as those comely eyes turned from questioning to resolute. Before he could say anything those exquisite lips roughly claimed his in a boozy kiss. What felt like the first real kiss of Allen’s life.  
  
  
  
_You’re sharp, you're clear, you're there and you're near_  
_But you're too close for me to see_  
_The way that it was, not despite but because_  
_Will live in eternity_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! There will definitely be a third chapter as this went places I wasn't expecting lol.  
> I decided in my universe Quinn is Hungarian. I did use some parts of my great-grandparent's story as inspiration, but know that their marriage was completely different than what is depicted as Quinn's life.


	3. Chapter 3

_Constellations in the sky_  
_Then all's blue in twilight light_  
_Saw your reflection in the pool_  
_That's when I knew_  
_That I was yours_  
_And if all's fair_  
_In love and war_  
_Nothing'd get_  
_In between us_

 

Quinn felt Allen’s equal greeting to his lips. He had to admit he was taken aback by the tender gesture. The doctor had cautiously, but firm in his intention, brought his fingers to his face in a decidedly sensual brush along his jaw. It was the only thing he needed to finally act on whatever this was between them. It was something he hadn’t been sure of at first, startling himself as he told Allen about his mother. Quinn had never told anyone that before. When Allen arrived at his door, disheveled and glowing from the icy mist outside, it was the gaze he felt from under those black rimmed glasses that made everything suddenly clear. His eyes said more in those two seconds than Allen had expressed in all the weeks they’d been thrown together. Quinn knew it was an exceedingly meaningful expression for him, and he did not want to take the moment for granted.

Quinn brought his body closer to Allen's and slipped his hand beneath his jacket to the small of his back bringing him closer to him. Hearing an intense sigh escape him, Quinn continued his caressing tenderly kissing his neck. At first prudent and gentle, the connection sent a burning shock of longing through his entire body. He could feel himself grow hard in his boxers and there was no denying Allen felt him too. He choked back a groan, and quickly returned his attention to Allen’s mouth. The action was so swift and intense that their mouths violently clashed together at first, all teeth, chins, and noses. Quinn could then feel the rest of Allen’s body finally respond, the doctor’s hands coming to his face to calm him, center him, and realign their mouths. Quinn clenched the lapels of Allen’s khaki coat, and roughly pulled it off his shoulders, slamming him against the wall as he did so and finally allowing the full length of his body to smother Allen’s in all its fervor. One hand ran swiftly through his hair, grabbing his glasses and tossing them aside. He continued exploring Allen’s mouth, his tongue imploring him to accept him further. Gaining confidence, he lowered his hand until he reached the unmistakable bulge smothered inside Allen’s pants. He gave a gentle squeeze and the low moan that escaped Allen against Quinn’s mouth lit him aflame. Their eyes met for the briefest second, Allen’s pupils blown, the irises burned dark green and there was a decisive urgency in them Quinn had never seen before. It was permission and Quinn acted on it.

Their foreheads close, and the breath between them hot, his hands quickly came to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling at first, but finding his way down to his belt and undoing it as well. Quinn was just thankful the doctor’s usual prismatic tie stayed at home. Allen’s socks, shoes, and clothes enveloped their feet, and a beat passed between them as they took each other in, both undone in boxers and undershirts. Allen’s eyes lowered, staring for a moment at his shirt. He paused briefly in hesitation before grabbing at it and tearing it over his head in one swift motion. Then, to Quinn’s astonishment, it was Allen that frantically connected them again, his tongue searching his mouth. He pushed his body powerfully back towards the bed. Quinn’s breath was blown out of him and he moaned at the movement. He stumbled slightly before submitting to his suggestion. His whole body burned in excruciating agony at Allen’s assertion, but he had already decided that wasn’t how tonight was going to go.

Before they made it to the bed, Quinn grabbed Allen’s shoulders and swung him around rather roughly, then with one hand shoved him onto the bed. The man fell back and his mouth opened in brief defiance. Before he could say anything Quinn was atop him. He teasingly brought his fingers up the length of Allen’s leg and torso. Straddling him, he swiftly removed his shirt. An approving smile came across his lips as he admired the doctor. He enjoyed the slope of his thin shoulders and the chestnut colored hair that spread across the expanse of his chest and lower still to his belly, disappearing beneath his underwear. In a fervid movement he kissed him again, this time more meaning behind it, and he could feel Allen return his gesture with a hand grabbing impatiently at his back. They continued kissing as Quinn slipped a hand to the waist of his boxers and efficiently slipped them off, finally fully feeling him, ignited against his body. When he did so with his own underwear, the feeling when they connected, almost did him in then and there. It was so intense he could feel his toes tingling and his heartbeat pounding so hard it reverberated through his chest.

Or was it the doctor’s?

Quinn moaned loudly against Allen’s shoulder and thrust against him hard as he felt his dick twitch against him, and then again when he felt Allen’s hand yearning, and grabbed at his ass. Quinn wasn’t sure he could handle anymore stimulation without imploding. The heat in the apartment already caused sweat to drip from his brow and down his back. He saw a droplet fall to Allen’s mustache and slowly trickle to his upper lip. Quinn tenderly thumbed it away before kissing him, the full ferocity of his passion taking over. It was in this burning crimson void that he suddenly flipped the willing man around bringing his ass firmly to his erection, and placing a hand around first to Allen’s stomach, then grabbing his throbbing dick full on. He was pleased with the unbridled whine that was released from him. The doctor was more pliable in his hands than he imagined possible, and knew that for once Allen had finally let his guard down. He stopped fighting against him at last. All these long weeks that transpired between them, and this was the first time the man had truly freed himself from the fight. It was awe-inspiring actually, to feel this man against him, giving him his everything, without hesitation or embarrassment.

He followed through with rhythmic strokes along the length of him, feeling the intense contraction of his need, and hearing his gentle breaths turn to deep sighs of pleasure. Knowing he was willing he stopped for a moment, and put his lips to his ear.

“Are you ready?” He asked sincerely, his breath heavy against his neck.  
“Yes” Allen replied lowly.

Spitting into one hand, he brought it to his pleading cock and wet the length of himself thoroughly. He felt the muscles in Allen’s stomach contract in anticipation. That wouldn’t do. He soothingly brought his hand down the hilly muscles of his back, and feeling him finally relax grabbed himself, delving gently into him.

A tortured moan escaped him at the motion of feeling Allen’s body close around him. If he was with any other person he might have been embarrassed at this fully expressed vulnerability. Allen quickly sucked back a big gulp of air, but taking Quinn in fully, he relaxed under him again, and he groaned when Quinn quickly grabbed him in his hand once more and continued his efforts. He started gently thrusting until the movement felt more fluid and Allen accepted the entire length of him. Quinn’s movements became steadier and harder for a while as he allowed himself to fall over Allen’s back and brought his cheek to his ear, chin resting on his shoulder as he kissed his neck.

Allen groaned again in torment bringing his hand over his head and caressed the hair at the base of Quinn’s neck. He could tell he was ready, his muscles clenching in unison with the twitching of his cock, his hips rhythmic as he thrust against his hand. Their movements synced and he could feel his body doing the same, the heat in his groin taking hold of everything. The muscles of his back, belly, and legs all worked in unison to the conclusion he was so desperate for. He continued pumping feeling Allen’s whole body tense against him in a wave of pleasure so strong that he shuddered against him. A gnarled moan arose low in Allen’s throat, like nothing Quinn had ever heard come from his lips, or anyone else for that matter. Quinn’s body convulsed against Allen and his sight went black with pleasure as they both came in one frenzied tremor, their bodies so entwined it seemed, if only for a second, they were a singular being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! I hope I did them justice. There will be a 4th and final chapter. :)


	4. Chapter 4

_Sometimes we run alongside each other_  
_Sometimes behave like there's no other_  
_Sometimes we make horrible lovers_  
_Sometimes we're just mean_  
_The way you kissed my unshaven face_  
_Disappeared without a trace_

 

Quinn’s breath came to him in gasps as the soft cotton coverlet and sheets reappeared in his vision. Their bodies relaxed against each other, and he let out a pleased whimper as he slowly removed himself from the confines of Allen’s body. He could feel his frame laying over him heavily. Allen’s back rose and fell with an intense rhythmic breathing and he could feel the gentle vibration of his shaking arms. Realizing he was probably crushing him, he rolled onto his back, his head finding the comfort of his pillow. His fatigued thighs and back were thankful to be stretched out. Sweat pooled in the small concave of his heaving chest. The relaxation that came over him was like nothing he’d felt in so long, the intense satisfaction his body enjoyed caused an easy beam to spread over his lips.

Allen hadn’t moved from where he was. He only shifted his position, sitting back onto his heels. Quinn’s sleepy eyes acutely focused on him, and the smile fell from his face as fast as it came. Allen’s shoulders were slumped and his back curled. He made sure his knees didn’t touch the lustful mess pooling on the sheets in front of him. His head was down, his gaze intensely watched his own hands clenching each other, his thumb roughly rubbing his palm. It whitened under the pressure. Quinn observed him, bewildered. He lifted himself up resting on one elbow and his other hand came around gently caressing the lean muscle of Allen’s tricep. He felt it immediately tense up at his touch.

“Hey.” He said softly, trying to hide his frown. “Is something wrong?”

The doctor’s blue eyes regarded him for only a second as he backed away. He made his way to the side of the bed and sat there, his form turned away. Quinn’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but he couldn’t find any words so he swallowed roughly, the spit constricting the back of his throat. He studied him as Allen grabbed his thrown away shirt. The gentle muscles of his back extended gracefully over his ribs as he slid it over his head.  
Face to the floor he fumbled around a moment until he retrieved his underwear. It was then Quinn realized he was without his glasses, but the man didn’t seem to care. He brought his boxers up over his knees, and Quinn could tell he pulled them over himself with a definitive embarrassment. Then he stayed seated, still unable to face him. Allen’s chilly demeanor made him suddenly realize his nakedness. It made his cheeks burn, but he threw the shame away along with his pride.

“C’mon Doc, what is a matter with you?” He said earnestly, again reaching out for him, his hand resting on his shoulder.

Allen swatted it away as he rose from the bed. Quinn quickly lifted himself up to match him, and watched him across the depressing expanse of the bed. The inflamed energy that ricocheted between them earlier had now turned to a dimly lit ash. Finally turning towards him, Quinn could see the panic emanating from his bright eyes. He raised his hands up to his ears, palms flat against Quinn’s questioning countenance, as if protesting a cop’s gun in his face.  
Looking down a moment, Quinn noticed his boxers and silently slid them over his hips. Before Allen could escape he moved around the edge of the bed cornering him. The street lamps cast beams of light through the half opened shades causing glowing streaks across his face. He backed away closer to the corner as Quinn approached, arms still raised, not meeting his gaze. He looked like a caged animal, his eyes darting to the door that led to his freedom across the room. His anxious demeanor caused a deep dread to come over Quinn, and he could feel the heavy pressure that sat at the front of his face as he held back the anguish that wanted to escape. He swallowed it away again,  
“Allen, what’s wrong?” His voice broke and he clenched his fists in irritation, his fingernails carving away angrily at the skin of his palms. He moved even closer to Allen, the distance between them a mere foot. Allen’s back rested against the wall.

“Please…” he pleaded again. “You gotta tell me what is wrong.”

“I DON’T KNOW!” He screamed, his fists coming straight to his sides, roughly jabbing Quinn in his stomach as he did so. His gaze finally found him again, his blue eyes red and tearing in agony. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Quinn stood there helplessly watching him struggle with himself.

“I just…..” He paused fumbling to find the right words, “I just….”

He’d seen this before…in himself, not wanting to go there. Not wanting to accept who he really was, not wanting to face the fact that he was different. That who he was could be considered wrong to someone. He could never explain his attraction to both sexes. And being with women was easy. It felt natural and simple. He enjoyed women, he enjoyed their bodies, and their minds, the way they saw the world, and their emotional intuitiveness. But his first love to his surprise had turned out to be a man, and he enjoyed all the same things about him.

He had always been aware, even at a young age, that he was different. Maybe he glanced too long at the man walking down the street, or enjoyed looking at the handsome actor on the film poster in a different way than other men did. Of course he never could express that men gave him the same arousing thrill that women did, maybe even more so. It wasn’t until after the war that it became something he was not only fully aware of, but accepting. Jimmy was the one that changed all that for him, in his jagged beauty and the gentle way he was with him. He helped bring Quinn’s spirit back down from the stars, centering all his rage into someone he could love. He knew how to see Quinn when he needed it the most, and it was something he was forever grateful for. Quinn shuddered at the thought of what happened to him, and didn’t want to think about him anymore.

Pushing Jimmy from his thoughts, he realized now looking at Allen, that he might be that person for him. He calmed the anger and hurt he felt in his chest and taking a deep breath, he wanted to soothe him with his hands.

“You don’t understand Michael.” He said quietly interrupting his intention. The use of his first name caught him off guard.

Quinn watched as one tear fell down Allen's face, his mouth thick with spit. “I’ve never done this before. This is my first time….being with a man. I am middled aged for Christ’s sake. I mean there were moments in my life,” he paused as if remembering, “But nothing acted on. Not like this. And now I worry…”

His face broke with the emotion, his mouth contorting as he sniffed back tears. “What am I going to do? I’ve built this whole life around something that I never was. And then you…..” He laughs at himself, happy and bitter at the same time. “You show up!” He looked to the ceiling as if imploring God himself to answer him, and roughly pushed his body against the wall like he wanted to melt into it.

“I couldn’t lie to myself for another second. I didn’t even know where I was going tonight, but when I realized where I ended up, in your driveway for some reason that’s when it became so clear. It never occurred to me we’d end up like this.” His eyes came down from the heavens and stared fiercely at the rumpled sheets.

Quinn shifted his hand to cup his face in his hands closing the distance between them, but Allen broke eye contact again staring at his chest. He continued as the sob he desperately buried in his chest escaped, “And I don’t want you to think I don’t love my wife. I do, and our son is my most beautiful creation, he’s my greatest joy. I do! I love them!”

He lost the words and looked up at him, holding his breath to the emotion, his eyes searching for the answer to his question. Quinn couldn’t find the words, but wanted him to know how beautiful he looked in that moment, baring his soul, letting go of all logic, and how thankful Quinn was to be the man he allowed to bare witness to it. He hesitated briefly before cupping Allen’s face in his hands. He held it there for a long moment, gently in his palms, more tender than he could recall being with anyone else. His thumb brushed along his beard, his other fingers gently squeezing the back of his neck and through his hair. Quinn brought his forefinger to Allen’s top lip and soothingly sweeping it to his bottom, to his chin and along his jawline. Allen’s eyes closed and opened again in a fleeting moment of tranquility.

His brown eyes intently followed his fingers, studying every ravine and crinkle of his face. They continued to his hair and then back to his brow. Finally his hand rested right back where it started cupping his face. He slowly closed the distance between them, his eyes clear in his intention. He could feel Allen’s body relax beneath him, leaning heavily against the wall. Quinn thought he looked like a man who was finally free, but was stopped before they could connect in a feathery kiss. Allen sighed longingly against him, but his hand came to his chest in gentle protest.

He said quiet and resolute,

“I have to go.”

_Something did change inside of me_  
_Changed something in the way I see_  
_See those shadows hanging on the streets_  
_You cannot outmaneuver time_  
_I'm only leaving 'cause I can't stay_

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics: Leif Vollebekk


End file.
